


No Panties

by scandalpants



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 08:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1219855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalpants/pseuds/scandalpants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smutty, fluffy one shot between Logan and Veronica, wherein Veronica draws the line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Panties

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Parkerlees](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Parkerlees).



Logan’s lips worked their way down her neck, making her gasp when he hit that spot. Veronica couldn’t see the smile he placed against her skin, but she was damn sure it was smug. She was about to call him out on it when he applied a little suction. After that she couldn’t remember what she’d been about to say; hell, she couldn’t remember her own name.  
Until he said it, that is. Said it in that low, sexy way that made her knees entirely useless.

“Veronica.” His teeth scraped the soft spot just across her clavicle, making her grateful the door was behind her, holding her up. “Where’s your key?”

“Hmmm?” _Key…key…I used to know what a key was._ “My what?”

Logan lifted his head, leaving the expanse of skin under her chin cold and lonely. It took a moment for her eyes to focus  
enough to see him smirking at her.

“Small, sharp, piece of metal. Good for opening rectangular wood things.”

He was laughing. Just with his eyes, but laughing all the same. Not fair to do when he’d addled her in the first place.  
Veronica reached into her bag and drew out her keyring, turning her back on him so she could get the door open.  
Stepping barely inside, she dropped her bag and swiveled around. She held the door partway closed and used her body to block the doorway. “Well, thanks. That was a lot of fun tonight. Call me tomorrow?”

She was overselling this, batting her eyes at Logan and giving him an exaggeratedly sweet smile. It was an invitation to play, which is why she was surprised when he took a step back and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, ok. Maybe a movie? The New Leaf is playing ‘Rebel Without a Cause’ for Revival Thursday.” He took another step backward.

Veronica snorted. “Lobbing softballs, now? I expected more of you.”

The corners of his lips twitched up, giving her all kinds of thoughts. Thoughts that didn’t jibe at all with him backing away from her door or keeping his hands in his pockets. She crossed her arms and leaned a shoulder against the jam, letting the door fall entirely open. “You know, you could come in for a minute.”

The doormat in front of her door was a monochromatic, coarse, faux-straw that was great for wiping your feet. Which was why she couldn’t figure out why it now garnered all of Logan’s attention.

“It’s kind of late. I don’t want your dad to get mad.”

 _So that’s why he suddenly turned into Mr. Manners._ She reached out and slid her index fingers into the front pockets of his jeans, pulling him forward in blatant invitation.“He’s in Arizona for a couple of days, on a case.”

Their bodies now flush, but still in the doorway, Logan looked behind her. His eyes flitted from one side of the empty room to the other before lowering to her. Watching the way he wet his lips before pressing them together, she had to press her own together to avoid doing the same.

“So…you’re all alone tonight?”

“Just me and a slobbery mutt. Backup’s somewhere around here, too.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed at her, and in the next moment she lost her relationship with gravity, as well as her sandals. It was merely instinct that had her wrapping her legs around his waist as he duck-walked them into the apartment and kicked the door closed behind him. Veronica couldn’t use the same excuse, though, when her ankles remained locked even when she was pinned under him on the couch.

Modesty should have had her caring that her miniskirt had gotten rucked up around her waist. Unfortunately, or fortunately when it was Logan Echolls between your thighs, modesty had no place in this moment.

She forgot to breathe. The boy’s kisses were so damn intense they actually shut off brain stem functions. It took every last bit of will power she possessed to wrench her head up so she could take in a gulp of air. That left her neck fair game, an opportunity Logan didn’t waste a second before taking advantage of.

Her hands were full of his hair, but it wasn’t enough. Dammit she wanted to feel some skin. Her removal of his shirt might have been a little rough, done with nails raking his back as she gathered fistfuls of the material and wrenched it up. Luckily he didn’t seem to mind, reaching back a hand to grab his collar and pull the thing over his head before dropping it by the couch.

So worth it. His skin was velvety smooth below her palms, and underneath the muscles coiled and flatted as his hand reached between them to unbutton her blouse. Then hot damn his chest was against hers for the first time.

Veronica had thought about this. Countless nights when she had imagined this boy taking her in his arms and giving her long, lingering kisses. What the hell had she been thinking? So much better was this hungry, glutinous guy who pressed his mouth so hard against hers, she would probably be bruised the next day.

But she wasn’t ready for this. The way he was grinding against her, she could feel his need equaled hers. If there was a time to slow things down, now was it.

“Logan. Logan, wait,” she breathed against his cheek.

His hands instantly stilled, but he stayed right where he was, thankfully.

“I want to do this, but it’s too soon.”

“Ok, yeah, of course.” When he went to push back, away from her, she tightened the vice her legs made around his hips.  
She huffed out a short laugh. “I don’t mean it’s too soon for us. I barely started taking the pill again. Even with condoms it’s a risk.”

“Oh.” Logan’s body relaxed into hers again, and he smiled down at her, swiping a strand of hair off her forehead.

The little kiss he placed on her nose shouldn’t have aroused her more, but damned if it didn’t.

“You know, that’s not our only option.” His eyebrows waggled suggestively.

 _Some under the bra action. Count me in._ “What do you have in mind?”

He took advantage of the way her legs had loosened, scooting down until he was eye level with her breasts. His tongue ran lightly along the edge of her bra, abruptly ending in a bite at her nipple.

The moan that escaped from her was absolutely one of surprise, nothing else. No way could such a simple move almost make her climax.

“And when we’ve had enough of that,” his arm snaked around her leg, pressing into the bikinis that separated her from the bare skin of his chest.

He’d managed, unerringly, to press right on her clit. Her hips bucked of their own accord, and that damned surprised moan escaped her again. “Logan!”

Maybe if she’d sounded offended, or angry, he wouldn’t have grinned that way. But was it her fault that her voice wasn’t working right? That breathy speech was entirely unlike her, and didn’t carry anywhere near the effect she wanted.

She cleared her throat, forcing a sternness into her tone. “Logan, slow down. We have to make sure we don’t get carried away.”

His chuckle was low, and deep enough that she could feel it rumble in his chest. Given the way she was still pressed up against him, that wasn’t helpful. “So, does that mean anything under the panties is off limits?” His head lowered and worked the front clasp of her bra with his teeth.

 _Oh, hell NO._ Veronica pushed his head away and slid her body up, away from his. She was on her feet pacing before he seemed to even register there’d been a change. She might have laughed at the way he looked down at the empty couch in surprise if she wasn’t so grossed out.

“What the hell?” He stared at her, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“No. No. That word is a deal breaker. Just…no.” She shivered and started rubbing her hands up and down her biceps as if to warm them.

Logan shook his head. “What word?” His eyes drifted away from her in contemplation before shifting back. “Panties?”

Veronica felt an intense shiver move up her spine, and had to do a whole body shake to dispel the feeling. “Ew! Stop! Say it again and we’re never having sex.”

Logan blanched and sat up. “Why? Does that word bring up some memory of—“

“What? No!” Veronica shook her head. “It’s just a trigger word for skeeviness, at least at our age. Only little girls should use it. Don’t you have words that just creep you out?” It felt like the two syllables still hung in the air, and she had to shake her hands around spastically to try and dispel them.

“So what do want me to call them?” Logan had cocked his head to the side, like a spaniel hearing a funny noise. “Underwear is a little too fourth grade to be sexy.”

She noticed he didn’t volunteer his own trigger words; likely nothing turned him off. “Call them anything, just not…that word.”

“The Underclothes That Shall Not Be Named?” Logan reached out a hand and pulled her to sit sidesaddle in his lap, her back against his chest. “Or we could go a little archaic. Intimates, smallclothes, knickers?”

The way he had moved his teeth to slide up from her throat placed his whisper right into her ear. How she could go from a rigid, freaked-out mess into a melted puddle in his lap in ten seconds was beyond comprehension.

Turning her head to the right, she was able to catch his mouth with hers. Before kissing Logan she’d had no idea her mouth had its own set of erogenous zones, and damned if he didn’t know them all. A flick of his tongue behind her upper lip, on the roof of her mouth, then running across her teeth, and she was leaning back into him, bringing his hands to rest on her breasts.

His dexterous fingers finally dealt with that annoying bra clasp, and she felt the familiar tightening before she was finally unbound. Immediately his hand were covering her, managing to be just the right balance of tender and rough as they kneaded and tweaked.

The earlier thread of conversation was lost to Veronica now, but Logan picked it up seamlessly when she began to nip along his jawline. “Or modern? Bikinis, or maybe briefs. Military? Skivs is kind of hot.”

She sighed against his cheek. “If you keep it up I’m going to insist on ‘intimates’.”

If she defied gravity earlier, this time it defied her by pulling her down onto the couch. Or maybe that was just Logan tipping her back.

He shifted to hover over her, fixing her with a mock scowl. “This is your issue. I’m just being helpful.” The path down her chest was short, given that in no time he had her areola in his mouth.

Despite the way her chest lifted to stay close to those lips when he backed up slightly, she gave him a wry grin.  
“Smallclothes is helpful? What do you say when you’re being a smart aleck?”

“Gotchies.” Thankfully he hadn’t been moving away, just working his way toward the other breast. If she weren’t so turned on, the way he pinched her might have hurt. Or, at least, hurt in a way that didn’t have her lifting her pelvis in a search for a little relief.

Her laughter sounded a little too high, too girly to be acceptable. Veronica tried to stifle it, only to end up snarfling instead. “Gotchies? What the hell is that?”

Logan shrugged, winding his tongue down to her stomach, making ever-smaller circles to reach her belly button. “When I was growing up, one of my nannies called them that. She was Ukrainian, so maybe that had something to do with it.”

“Hmmm…” His hands on her breasts, that mouth on her stomach, the bulge in his jeans pressing against her thigh—it all just felt so damn good.

Her breasts were left aching when he pulled his hands away. She glanced down to see he was hovering over the waistband of her denim skirt, a question in his eyes. When she nodded he reverently placed a kiss on her stomach, before unclasping the skirt and pulling it off her, bringing her…knickers? ...smallclothes? with it.

They’d never gone this far. Always the touches had ended under her blouse, over her bra. It hadn’t helped that her dad had been hovering close by, calling her randomly and interrupting their dates. Now she was lying on the couch, her legs splayed open with Logan on his knees, suspended above her. And she’d never felt so right.

His question was tentative, just a “Can I?” uttered before she nodded her head, maybe a little too enthusiastically. What she expected was for him to touch her. To reach out his hand and press down with his thumb like he had earlier. She definitely didn’t expect him to grasp her flanks and bury his face between her thighs.

Before she could protest – this had never even been topic of conversation between her and Duncan – his tongue had run up the entire length of her opening and circled her clit. Instead of using the fingers threaded in his hair to pull him up, she was instead pushing his head that much closer to her.

His rhythm was a steady cadence, and in only moments she was rocking against his mouth, mewling cries leaving her mouth without permission. He seemed to know when her need increased, inserting a couple of his fingers into her slit and moving them in time with her thrusts.

She’d never orgasmed with another person in the room. Always by herself in the cover of darkness, in her own room, a pillow stuffed in her mouth so she could make sure she wasn’t overheard. This time there were no pillows close by, and she couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t already on this couch. Therefore she was completely surprised when a low, guttural sound started to escape from her in a fast tempo. Being quiet was the last thing on her mind after Logan said, “God, Veronica. …taste so…fucking good.”

She could feel herself draw him in, the way muscles contracted around his moving fingers. Her entire universe narrowed until it contained only the place where he was pressing in with his tongue. Finally, and too soon, she exploded against his mouth, a final, high-pitched cry in accompaniment.

It took a few minutes to come down, Logan sweetly placing light kisses to the tender spots inside her thighs until she calmed. Veronica cupped his jaw in hers, and pulled him up for a deep kiss. She could taste something new mixed in with his distinct flavor, and gave a heavy, satisfied sigh.

He was above her, his need obvious when she shifted her thigh and felt his heat. Reaching down a hand, she said, “Let me—“  
“No.” Logan grasped the hand and placed a kiss on the palm. “Another night. No way we’re topping that.”

She frowned at him. “But what about you?”

His smile was sweet, as was the kiss he placed on her chin before shifting up into a sitting position. “Let’s stretch out our firsts, okay? I want them to last.”

Veronica sat up herself, reaching down to scoop her clothes off the floor and begin putting them back on. “Are you sure? ‘Cause once I put on my gotchies I’m thinking they’re on for the night.”

“So,” his smirk was full of humor, “that’s what we’re going with?”

Finished dressing, Veronica walked over to the fridge and pulled out a couple of waters. “Yep.” She tore the tops of both the waters and handed one to him, raising her own in a toast. “Death to that other word, and anyone who says it.”

Logan tapped his bottle against hers. “Agreed. Don’t get your gotchies in a bunch.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in response to a challenge posed by Tumblr's Parkerlees, after I maintained that there any many, better alternatives to the P word.


End file.
